Masked Lover

Back when I was finishing college, my thesis got rejected three times in a row. I was so worked up I couldn't sleep all night, so I messaged my boyfriend, Tom Estes:

My thesis got shot down again. I can't sleep.

Two hours later, he replied:

Trying to get me to buy you a midnight snack again? You should eat less anyway!

I stared at his message, stunned. Tom and I were both small-town kids who'd clawed our way up through good grades, both of us out of nowhere places. We met in college, fell in love. Our families were ordinary, so we lived frugally as a rule, but his frugality went far beyond mine.

That was why we always split everything evenly, right up through graduation and into work. We even landed at the same company, two nobody employees with no name to speak of.

My proposal had been rejected by our supervisor. It was the third time I'd revised it, and each time her reply was that Tom's version was more suitable.

That night, Tom told me to head home alone first. When I got in, I opened my messaging app and saw his social media post.

Grateful for my boss's trust.

Just a short line, paired with a photo of a restaurant dinner, candlelight glowing low, looking for all the world like a date.

I told myself he'd only taken the supervisor out for a meal to say thanks. But then I saw the beautiful supervisor's post, and I couldn't stay calm.

Your ability is as reassuring as your drive. So is your proposal.

At the end of her words she'd attached a screenshot of part of his proposal. I opened it, and I froze.

That proposal was clearly mine. Every time I'd revised mine, he'd come by under the pretense of checking on me.

Furious, I messaged him straight away.

Why did you steal my proposal?

The exact same proposal, and she passed yours. On what grounds?

What is going on between you and her?

My string of questions got no reply. He didn't come home that night either.

...

The proposal I'd stayed up night after night to build had become the company's proposal this way, and in the end it had nothing to do with me.

The next day I went into the office and found Tom. I demanded answers again, but all he said was, "Stop making a scene. The supervisor values me, I can get promoted and get a raise, you should be happy for me."

"I'll cover ten percent more of the rent going forward."

"Ten percent more? Ha, how generous of you!"

He didn't have an ounce of shame in him. He actually thought I was the one causing trouble. Buried in that proposal wasn't just his promotion and raise, it was everything I'd poured myself into.

"Then what is your relationship with the supervisor?" I asked him, and he blew up.

He shouted himself hoarse, eyes wide with fury. "What are you talking about? Hazel Coleman, don't drag your filthy little ideas onto the supervisor! She's nothing like you!"

I remembered how he used to sneer whenever we talked about other women, always saying I was different from them, that they were gold diggers, vain little creatures. And now here he was losing his temper at me over the supervisor.

We had it out on the rooftop. I'd barely gotten back to my desk when the supervisor came to find me.

She handed me a proposal. "This is Tom's proposal. There are still a few things that need filling in. Get it done as soon as you can."

She said it like an order. I didn't refuse. I just put the proposal in my drawer and ignored it.

But at the end of the day, he came storming over and hauled me up to the rooftop before I could get a word in.

"Why didn't you do it? Do you have any idea how important this proposal is to me, to the supervisor?"

"Hazel, that's our work, the thing we poured ourselves into. Get it right and we'll have everything. We won't have to be crammed into a place like that anymore!"

I watched him rage, and then I asked him back, "We? Which we?"

Tom took my hand, all tender. "You and me, of course. Hazel, I'm doing this for our future. I don't have a choice."

"Just get this proposal done properly. Once I'm promoted and getting a raise, we can do so many things."

He said it with such sincerity, even a little emotion, and looking at him, my heart softened a little in spite of myself.

From freshman year until now, a full five years, I'd grown used to his everyday frugality, used to being with him. It was rare for him to get this worked up.

My heart went soft. Or maybe I was letting myself hope a little too.

"Get married?"

"What?"

"I'm asking, will we get married after you're promoted and get the raise?"

I looked at him straight on. Five years without a break. Talking about marriage was the most natural thing in the world.

Except he still hesitated.

"Hazel, our situation isn't that good right now. Let's talk about that later."

"I'll go get you a coffee. Just focus and finish the proposal."

With that he hurried off, as if terrified I'd keep pressing him.

I lowered my head and looked at the proposal on the desk, my heart wavering, and in the end I sat down to put it in order.

The proposal was my work to begin with, and I'll admit his words had stirred something in me.

I worked late that night. Tom had a coworker bring over the coffee he'd bought. Seeing me still busy with the proposal, she got indignant on my behalf.

"Hazel, this isn't even your job. Why are you so eager about it? I just saw Tom head out with the supervisor again."

"The supervisor assigned it. There's nothing I can do."

I paused for a second, then brushed it off.

I was just an ordinary employee. When the supervisor assigned something, there was no fighting it. Only, looking at the coffee in my hand, I brought it to my lips and set it down again.

For some reason, that pick-me-up coffee felt like it would only weigh my heart down more.

When I put the proposal together, I held a little something back. I worked late, and only in the dead of night did I send him a message.

I'm done for the night. Come pick me up and take me home.

No reply came for a long time, and my colleague's words popped into my head at once, so I opened his social media feed right then.

Nothing posted. So I checked the supervisor's instead.

The night is soft tonight, and the person beside me knows how to appreciate it.

The caption sat beneath a photo of the supervisor in a white dress. She looked beautiful.

I remembered she'd left work in a sharp, businesslike suit. My eyes went back and forth over the picture, and a knot of unease tightened in my chest.

Then I saw it, a sliver of a finger poking out at the corner of the photo, with a faint crescent-shaped scar on it.

Last year on my birthday, to save money, he'd suggested we celebrate at home. We invited a few friends we were close with, and he led the way decorating the room. That was when he accidentally cut his finger and was left with a crescent-shaped scar.

He'd said it was a wound he'd taken for me, and it was worth it, that the scar it left was proof of his love.

Our friends had cheered him on, and I'd been wrapped up in the sweetness of it too.

The message I sent still got no reply, so I took a cab home myself.

The place we rented was some distance from the company, in an old part of town, and the apartment was small.

I pushed the door open and scanned the room. He hadn't come back.

I was tidying up when I realized one of my dresses was missing.

It was the most expensive thing I owned, a birthday present from my parents last year. It cost a lot, and since I was used to living frugally, I'd never once worn it.

I'd kept it stored in the closet like a treasure.

Frantic, I searched everywhere, then something struck me and I quickly opened my phone and looked closely.

"That's, that's my dress!"

The dress the supervisor was wearing in the photo was mine.

No wonder it had looked familiar at first glance, though I hadn't stopped to think about it then.

He'd actually given my dress to another woman!

He still hadn't answered my messages, but watching another woman wear my dress made me furious.

I fired off question after question.

Tom Estes, why did you give my dress to someone else!

Answer me! Why?

Do you even know that was a present from my parents?

The string of questions got no response at all. I couldn't take it anymore, so I sent another message.

If you don't answer me now, I'll call the police! I'll tell them Adeline Mason broke in and stole it!

Adeline Mason was the supervisor's name. She was about our age, yet she was a supervisor at the company, high up and powerful, and cold by nature.

Behind her back, the colleagues all called Adeline the ice-cold beauty.

But now she and Tom were too close. Close enough to make me uneasy.

The moment I mentioned the police, he replied fast.

Hazel, don't do anything crazy! You don't even wear that dress, and the supervisor called me out on short notice for something. I couldn't just leave her hanging, could I?

Once the bonus comes through I'll buy you a new one.

It was always like this with him, one question, one soothing line. I watched the screen. He was typing.

But nothing came through for a long while.

Just as I was about to ask again, a message arrived.

You didn't call the police, did you?

I won't be coming home tonight. Get some sleep. Don't forget the proposal tomorrow. Once it's locked in, I'll make it up to you.

He said it like it was only natural, and I was already worn down.

I'm not stupid. I could guess there was probably something going on between him and Adeline, but part of me didn't want to believe it.

After all, we'd been together five years.

I forced myself not to spiral, went to bed early, and went in to the office first thing the next morning.

I'd barely reached my desk when Tom came over holding a coffee.

"Hazel, you worked so hard. The proposal's all finished, right?"

"Have a coffee to wake yourself up."

I took the coffee and handed him the proposal, but my eyes stayed on him.

I thought he'd say something about the dress, but instead he took the proposal and walked straight off, with no intention of explaining at all.

Something twisted in my chest, and I couldn't help a bitter little laugh at myself. Then I looked down at the coffee and froze.

On the rim of the cup was half a lipstick print!

I'll admit it, in that moment I lost my temper.

I got up and walked straight into the supervisor's office.

Tom was there, holding the proposal, talking away with Adeline.

"Hazel? Do you need something? Or is there a problem with the proposal?"

Adeline asked, and Tom turned to look at me too.

Without a word, I threw the coffee straight at Tom.

The suddenness of it stunned them both, and Tom flew into a rage in an instant.

"Hazel, are you insane! What are you doing?"

His eyes were wild, his face flushed red, and he even looked half a beat from raising his hand.

Adeline was quicker to react and got up to put herself between us.

"Hazel, this is work hours. You can't act out like this!"

"Whatever problem you two have, settle it after work."

Dutiful, doing her job as the supervisor. Nothing about it sounded wrong.

But the sight of her, the thought of the lipstick on that coffee, the thought of my dress, only fed the fire.

"You stole my proposal, you stole my dress, and now you hand me coffee someone else has already drunk from?"

"Tom Estes, how did I never see how disgusting you are?"

I fired the questions off one after another. Adeline hurried, alarmed, to the door, and only relaxed once she'd confirmed no one outside had noticed.

Lucky for them the office was well soundproofed.

"You, what are you talking about? Hazel, you're going to make a scene again?"

There wasn't a trace of shame on Tom's face. He even turned it around to interrogate me.

"Everything I've done, everything I've worn myself out for, what was it for? Wasn't it so we could have a good life? Do you want to keep cramped in that rundown place?"

"Can't you show me a little understanding? Hazel, you're so selfish!"

Me?

Selfish?

Tom's words actually made me laugh.

"Who's the selfish one here? Who's the one working so hard? Tom, you have the nerve to say that to me?"

The moment he called me selfish, I knew. The person I'd been with since college had changed a long time ago.

Five years isn't that long. But it isn't short, either.

"Enough. Stop throwing a fit! This is all over a cup of coffee and a dress, isn't it?"

"When this is over I'll just buy you new ones, all right? Do you have to make a scene and ruin everyone's day?"

He said it harshly, self-righteously, as if the one in the wrong were me and not him.

His shamelessness left me stunned.

Adeline had been watching us argue, and now she quietly walked over to Tom's side.

"That's enough. This is the office, not your home."

"Hazel, you assisted Tom in finishing the proposal. I won't overlook that. And Tom is capable, he's a good person. Don't hold it against him too much."

"Go back to work for now."

Adeline was presiding over it like she was being fair, and I found it laughable.

"So Supervisor Mason understands him better than I do, and I'm his girlfriend. No wonder you're the supervisor. So considerate toward your subordinates."

The sarcasm was heavy in my voice. Tom started to argue back, but Adeline cut him off.

"Hazel, this isn't school. You've been working for a year now. Grow up. Out in the real world, nobody's obligated to indulge you."

"If you don't want the job, you can hand in your resignation any time."

She was the supervisor, after all, and that lecturing, reprimanding tone left no room to argue.

I looked at the two of them and felt sick. Part of me wanted to quit and be done with all of it, but the thought of everything I refused to swallow pushed the impulse back down.

They wanted to use their own proposal, didn't they? Then let them.

"Ha. Well said, Supervisor Mason. When it's time to hand it in, I'll hand it in."

I turned and walked out of the office. To my coworkers I looked the same as always, calmly returning to my desk and going on with my work.

From the moment Tom said those words, I was already done hoping for anything from him.

I kept myself busy the whole day. He came by a few times; I ignored him every time, and he assumed I was still sulking.

I'll be working late these next few days, sleeping at the office. Go home on your own.

He sent the message right before the end of the day. I glanced at it, didn't reply, and simply left the office.

That night, just as I lay down to rest, scrolling my feed the way I always did before sleep, one of Adeline's posts caught my eye.

Reunited after so long, and neither of us has changed.

The photo under the caption was a shot of a bed. No faces, just four bare feet, which only made it easier to picture the rest.

I looked at who the other pair of feet belonged to.

It was Tom.

There was a birthmark on his ankle. He'd mentioned it before.

I stared at the post, lost in it, grievance and fury tangled together, and by the time the tears came I couldn't even tell whether I was heartbroken or enraged.

The betrayal was right there in front of me, naked and plain. I called Tom straight away. He didn't pick up.

Video call. He didn't pick up that either.

Even a message asking him got no reply.

I didn't sleep well that night.

But I'd already made up my mind.

The next day I went to the office with dark circles under my eyes. I'd meant to confront him to his face, and I didn't care if the whole company heard.

But he didn't come. Neither did Adeline.

Another manager said they'd taken time off.

I knew, though, that it wasn't as simple as time off.

I'd thought about resigning, running, never having to face those two disgusting people again.

But the moment I thought of everything I'd swallowed all this time, I held back again.

Still, I'd already prepared my resignation letter in advance.

I was working, my mind elsewhere, when my coworker Vera Delgado came over.

"Hazel, you and Tom are a couple, right? You two aren't married yet?"

Vera traveled for work a lot. Since I'd joined the company, I'd only run into her twice, and only because our jobs overlapped, so we counted as acquaintances. She knew about me and Tom.

But she'd been out of the office these past few months, and the fact that she'd walked over to ask me this the very day she got back caught me a little off guard.

"No, we're not getting married."

"Why are you suddenly asking me that?"

I answered calmly. I used to daydream about marrying him. Now I didn't want it at all.

"Good thing you didn't, Hazel. Really, lucky you didn't. On my way back today I passed the Magpie Bridge Hotel and saw Tom coming out with a woman."

"I couldn't get a good look at her. He saw me, though, and turned right back into the hotel."

Vera said it, and I listened calmly, but inside I was churning.

Well. So someone had caught them.

"That woman is probably Adeline. Supervisor Mason, from our department. She only started a few months ago. She must have joined right while you were away."

I said it like it didn't touch me at all, but the moment Vera heard it her eyes went wide.

"Adeline?"

"Isn't she from our school?"

Vera was stunned. She, Tom, and I had all come out of the same school, except Vera was a year ahead of me, so we were more like alumni. Even though she was rarely in the office, we got along well enough.

I just hadn't expected Adeline was an alum too.

"Hazel, don't tell me your boyfriend and this Adeline knew each other from way back? You don't even seem surprised they're together."

The gossip in her lit right up, and Vera pressed me, curious. I didn't explain much.

I just said flatly, "He and I are already done."

Yes. Done. On my own.

I never got any response or explanation out of Tom, and I didn't want to wait for one.

Seeing is believing, and now even Vera had seen it with her own eyes.

"Done? Good. That's a good thing." Vera blinked, then nodded.

Too bad Vera didn't know much about Adeline. She only knew she was an alum too, in the same year as Vera, but the two of them had never really crossed paths.

Adeline hadn't been at the company long, yet she'd landed straight into a supervisor role.

Vera even made a point of warning me that Adeline's background couldn't be simple, or she wouldn't have become a supervisor.

Made sense, when I thought about it. I'd been at the company a year, working hard, with results to show, and I wasn't even a team lead. Adeline came in and was a supervisor within a few months.

But right now I had no real curiosity about how she'd made supervisor.

Right now what was in my chest was more tangled than that.

Vera went back to her desk. Tom didn't come in all day, and he didn't answer my messages either.

In the end I sent one over, no longer caring whether he replied.

Let's break up. From now on we go our separate ways.

The message went out, and this time it got an instant reply.

All those messages before, stacked up with no answer, and the second I said breakup, he replied in a heartbeat.

What breakup? Hazel, what are you making a fuss about?

I was just accompanying the supervisor on a business trip. Can you not have such a filthy mind?

I'll be back tomorrow. Stop this nonsense.

Message after message, and it looked like he was trying to keep me. It looked more like him making a scene.